To Remember
by psycho pixie
Summary: Rated for slash, yaoi, whatever you want to call it. In the last battle with Gauron, Souske remembers what got them where they are now. One of three vignettes.


Yes, I've done it. I've slashed Full Metal Panic. God, I'm sad. But really – Gauron calling Souske 'honey' was one thing. But then he did it again. And then he kept calling him "MY Kashyyn." And then there was the "I love you." My God, if they weren't in love once, I don't know who was.  
  
*  
  
This time around – in this fight – that's when I realize it. He's not even fighting back, hardly. I've nearly destroyed his Arm Slave, and he doesn't retaliate. I know he's not trying. But the things he's saying... this war is one of words, and I know I'll lose eventually.  
  
We always knew that I would be the one to kill him. It was understood, the entire time we snuck around, the entire time that I lied to Melissa and Kurz. To Kalenin. To everyone. We knew that it wouldn't last, and that I would kill him.  
  
I always knew.  
  
But he's not going to die. He didn't die when I destroyed his first AS. He didn't die when I destroyed his second AS. He won't die, because it's too impersonal. I was too far away.  
  
I didn't die with him.  
  
Because that's how he thinks it will go, really. He thinks that we'll die together.  
  
He can't possibly be that delusional.  
  
Kaname is everywhere now. I can feel her close by, but I know that she's piloting the De Daanan, and it's not possible for her to be with me. It's maddening, to have her so close to me and have him so close to me at the same time. It's like two different worlds are trying to collide – two different people, their two different lives.  
  
Me.  
  
My two different lives.  
  
Surrender now, I said foolishly.  
  
"You should know better, honey."  
  
My foolishness. My idealisms. My youth. My mistakes. They're all trying to mix with the world I live in now, where I do things right the first time, where I make the right choices all the time, where I do what's logical and has fewest consequences in the long run.  
  
That's what Gauron is trying to do. He's trying to make me into the person he wanted me to be before I die with him. Our channels are open; anyone can hear what we say to each other. So I don't demand answers from him, I don't slam him into a wall and ask him what in the hell he was thinking. I don't ask for my life back.  
  
"I'm so delighted, my Kashyyn," he snarls down the radio, and I shudder. He was the one who gave me that name, after all. It's a phrase I've heard so many times, but now the words have twisted, become something angry. They don't mean the same thing.  
  
That was at the beginning of the fight.  
  
Now it's getting desperate.  
  
It really couldn't be worse for me now – he's got me pinned in a bear hug that I can't escape from, and he's turned on the arm slave's SDM – self destruct mechanism. A hundred and twenty seconds.  
  
A thousand years.  
  
I wish now that I'd killed him the first time – no, not when I first discovered the LAMDA driver. When I was twelve, and I shot him at point- blank range in the head. Four years before he found me again.  
  
I knew before the hijacking that he was alive, you see.  
  
He's always been out for himself. I always knew that. It made him an easy target, a predictable foe. We were most likely to find him where there was the greatest benefit for him. And he had always, ALWAYS been my enemy. The only times we ever saw each other were down the barrels of guns, when he moved on to another terrorist cell.  
  
Until Mithril. Once they picked me up, placed me in their ranks, things started to change.  
  
I started to change.  
  
There's really no way to explain what happened to me. When he came back. How he came back. I was young and stupid – SO stupid. So gullible. I was exactly what he was looking for – someone who didn't understand need.  
  
And he acted like he needed me.  
  
"Thirty seconds left. What are you gonna do, honey?"  
  
He acted like I was the only one he trusted with the information he had. Because he said he knew me, how I was. That I would understand how important this was. That I was the only one he could come to for this.  
  
"Twenty now. ...Oops! I meant to say fifteen!"  
  
I'm not sure when it began to change. I'm not sure it ever changed with him – I think, now, that he just watched how I began to change, and manipulated me however he could. He was very good at it – he could play me like a puppet. I was completely oblivious.  
  
Because I was foolish.  
  
Because I honestly thought he had become someone else.  
  
And – really. No one had ever given me the kind of attention he did. No one had singled me out like that. He treated me as though I was an adult. An equal. Someone he respected.  
  
I should have known.  
  
I wanted to scream that at him, but I settled for pounding his AS with the dulled knife, beating it until it's not recognizable as a weapon anymore. Until it's not the mighty Venom that Kalenin warned our troops about. And I think he knows – I think he always knew.  
  
Everyone wonders where the strength to fight him comes from, why I'm always the one who can do it. It's because I know him.  
  
That's why I've not truly defeated him yet, though. Because he knows me.  
  
Because when I was barely seventeen, when I was nervous and uncertain about myself, I was slipping away so that I could see him. Under the guise of collecting any information he could give me, doing my part for Mithril.  
  
Until one day, at our normal rendezvous time and place, he had nothing to give me. He simply stood there, hazel eyes expectant and curious as to if I'd leave when there was nothing new he could tell me.  
  
And I didn't leave.  
  
He was testing his boundaries that day. I would meet him even if he had no information. I didn't flinch away at the slightest contact between us – in fact, for the first time in my life, I felt heat creep into my face and I fell short of words.  
  
He noticed this. Of course he did.  
  
And he twisted it, turned it to his advantage. Of course he did.  
  
Until suddenly there was no one around, and it was just the two of us. And the gleam in his eye was nothing short of predatory, and I was absolutely dumbfounded, because no one had ever looked at me the way he was looking at me then.  
  
And he advanced on me, slowly, gauging my reaction, making sure that this was in his best interest, that I wouldn't lose all trust in him and vanish forever. So he saw the way my breath quickened, and he saw my face color nervously. And suddenly I was out of places to back into, because there was a wall behind me, and suddenly he'd lowered his head and was kissing me.  
  
And I was lost.  
  
That was when I quit justifying our meetings in my mind. It was when I stopped pretending like it was all for Mithril, and I just... let myself be used.  
  
Let him use me.  
  
Because he acted like he needed me.  
  
I want to scream that at him, too. That I knew all along that he was using me, and I didn't care. That maybe I was using him, too. But he'll just laugh at me, because he'll know that I'm lying. And everyone on the De Daanan can hear what we say to each other. I can't afford to say the things I need to say.  
  
I don't want to fight him again. Ever.  
  
And now I'm scooting back along the launch pad of the Tuatha De Daanan, getting closer to the ocean as his AS counts down to destruction. I don't know if I can make it.  
  
And then he says it.  
  
"I love you, Kashyyn," he thunders, his voice cracked with laughter.  
  
It was the only thing he never said to me.  
  
He never said anything to me that was untrue. He always chose his words carefully, so that they were always true, but could be misinterpreted.  
  
But that.  
  
He's never told me THAT before.  
  
And he's never lied to me.  
  
I plant my feet in his chest and push, hard. Send his AS sprawling into the angry sea, let churning waves swallow him. And the SDM goes off.  
  
And that's the end.  
  
Kashyyn.  
  
His name for me. He gave me that name when I was a child.  
  
His Kashyyn.  
  
"My Kashyyn," he would say, with that predatory smile – usually when we were alone. When he planned on doing something absolutely inappropriate that would last so long, that Kurz and Melissa would wonder where I was. In a voice that let me know that it was true. That for some length of time, I did belong to him.  
  
"Let's just be friends, eh, Kashyyn?"  
  
We were never friends.  
  
And the reality of it – the realization that he's truly gone, that I killed him, the realization that he finally said it – drives me to breaking point.  
  
He didn't even fight back. He let me beat him. He knew it was the last battle. And he wanted me to go with him.  
  
*  
  
I'm looking at the destroyed hangar late that night, when most of the crew is in bed. I have plans to take Kaname to a fishing spot I know – one that I go to when I need to clear my thoughts.  
  
The way I do now.  
  
I don't hear Kalenin come up beside me. I don't even know he's there until he speaks.  
  
"The entire crew would like me to congratulate you for saying 'shit head,'" he says calmly. "Just as I would like to commend you for your incredible display of bravery and cunning in battle today."  
  
I'm sullen. "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander."  
  
"Is that the last battle?" he asks, voice still calm. "Or will we be seeing him again?"  
  
I shake my head. "No, sir. Even he knew it was the last one."  
  
"Perhaps that's why he attempted to kill you both," he suggests neutrally. "To ensure the finality."  
  
I stare at the wall across from me unwaveringly. "I don't know, sir."  
  
"Was anything resolved with his death?" he asks.  
  
"No," I say before I can even think about it. "I mean – sir –"  
  
"Sergeant Sagura, I'm going to be very frank with you," he says evenly, as we both stare ahead. "While you did conduct what could almost be treasonous acts under his influence, I believe that's why you had the strength and determination to defeat him. I don't know how you thought I wouldn't notice the way you gallivanted off every few days and returned with information on the terrorist cells that he was involved with at the time, but you were mistaken in your assumption. I knew he survived that shot to the head because I was the one who warranted the metal plate that saved his life." He's quiet for a moment, letting me soak all of this in. "When was the last time you encountered Gauron before he started his search for the Whispered?"  
  
I hesitate, thinking it over. "Nearly nine months ago."  
  
He nods. "Thank you for being honest with me. Tell me, Sergeant, how you interpreted his last words to you."  
  
I stiffen. "Spoken with malicious intent."  
  
He nods again. "I see."  
  
But I'm lying, and he knows that. 


End file.
